


There must be a good reason that you're gone

by kurojiri



Series: I can't let go [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Moving On, Poor Life Choices, Ravenclaw/Slytherin Inter-House Relationship, Sirius Black mentioned - Freeform, Tragic Romance, War, Xenophilius Lovegood mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 02:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15720594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurojiri/pseuds/kurojiri
Summary: Pandora thought she had a good grasp of how life worked.





	There must be a good reason that you're gone

**Author's Note:**

> Pandora's Pov of, False beginnings. 
> 
> P.s I really am digging this rare pair. If ya'll have prompts out there I wouldn't mind writing more for this pairing.

Once upon a time, Pandora had thought that the world would eventually stop hurting. That a simple breach of peace would solve everything; that had been a naive dream. She could admit that. But it had been a wondrous dream. In the years that she met and got to know Regulus Black, she had wished that the differences that were between them hadn’t dissolved their union. She had seen what he could have done. What they could have been. And it had been lovely.  
  
But as dreams went reality forced fantasies to evaporate. Pandora never did falter or faulted how Regulus chose his family. Sometimes choices and obligations blurred the lines.   
  
In their lives and especially how controlling some of these elements were it made sense for certain groups and individuals to have tougher times in finding their own answers. She had gone through her own queries of which side would win and how far she would survive for her thoughts and beliefs. That had mended her own time when she noticed how far they became. Before she had thought that Regulus had once believed in their future. When his tenderness had filtered her senses.   
  
She could still remember the innocence of their first meetings. Of the curious questions she had and the polite barriers he instilled when they studied together. Academic participation and similar desires of creating an environment to free themselves from society had stemmed for them to get familiar with each other. Childhoods were picked up and awkward adolescence were molded in their interactions. It had instigated a bond for her and Regulus when the world felt too demanding, too dark and too overwhelming. She knew that she had depended on their meetings. Had assumed that Regulus had appreciated what they had.   
  
While his smiles were rare and his chuckles were almost unheard of Pandora had adored that he gave her those secrets to herself. They had enchanted her. Made her swoon when he showed her another side of himself that he felt the need to bury and forget they existed. Those insecurities had made her jump at the chance to being his pillar. And in some ways, his stubbornness made it worth the days when he allowed her to counter his moodiness.   
  
The willingness that he once produced during their first years of getting to know each other had made Pandora aware of her own feelings.   
  
It hadn’t been normal to desire more than she had. Friendships before had been easier to decipher. But when it came to Regulus he had been a quite a puzzle; someone that had fascinated her and made her want to dig deeper to see who he truly was. Not the boy he portrayed himself to be with his peers. Sirius Black had been his older brother and someone who had been colorful and full of life would have done a number with a sibling.   
  
Even though he never said anything she did see the influence Sirius had on him. The outburst to reign free, to the ability to be brave and compassionate when it warranted it.   
  
(Though she never said it out loud, Pandora had once wondered what life could have been if he had chosen to follow his brother again when the hat sat on his head and chose a different house than Slytherin.   
  
He would have been a great addition as a Ravenclaw housemate.)   
  
She liked him just fine the way he was now too. There were few complaints in her own head when he used his silver tongue in their arguments; it made it livelier. His cunning and determination were helpful too when they worked on their academics. Having a friend like Regulus had proved to be entertaining as the years went on. But while he had been charming he could also be a wild storm.   
  
His anger was lighting. A quick sneak attack, really, when it boiled over time. They reminded her of hours she saw when he played in quidditch.   
  
When they happened she could tell he was grateful when she forgave him. In a deeper level they both knew that he never intentionally or unintentionally would hurt her; he had limits of how far he would want to resurface his anger. Living with his mother and being a Black himself had taught him the fear of letting everything out. Pandora had been his light; whereas she had seen him as her moon.   
  
The few times he’d opened up she comforted him the way she knew he would appreciate. With no pity. Rather, empathy instead of sympathy. That had made the difference. Because it had allowed Pandora to view a part of herself when she changed the dynamic of what they created and protected until that moment.   
  
The days when they plummeted, they focused on each other as they orbited together. The gravity that swelled when she hum, and he sat close to her almost made it seem okay. When she kissed him that had been a gamble; because he could have rejected her, could have erased all the years they had with each other and make it seem as if it meant nothing. Like a forgotten book in the library, with a broken spine and teared pages making it disposable without a second glance. She knew it could have ended. But he didn’t.   
  
He leaned further, encircling his body with hers, intertwining fingers with a softness she knew he was capable of. He had chosen her at that moment. When they had pulled apart the lightness infected him.   
  
For those short days, weeks she had thought they done it. Basking in a metaphorical sun, and fairing a brief life of bliss where Hogwarts was their home, and they could have lived a life together where their names didn’t mean anything. In that naive and sentimental whims she kept made her forget what really had been summoned. Their differences in politics had never really ruptured them but when it happened it called for shouts from him and disappointed rebudles from her. She had loved him. Wholeheartedly.   
  
But there had been lines she could not— _would not_ cross. Not even for _him_ . The ending of them transpired faster than their union. It almost seemed comical that her first love had been doomed before she could have fathomed that she ever cared for him.   
  
It had burned to see him. The scars he hid made her weep that she had never been surprised to see Xeno catch her and espy her tears and know what— _who_ made her lost in grief. He had always been a good friend. Watching her back and never questioning fully why she met or spoke to a well-known dark wizard. Sometimes worried, but he never stopped her from being with Regulus Black.   
  
Xeno had once confessed to be curious of their (Regulus and herself’s) friendship, and while she never did give any deep details he had understood her reluctance. She had loved that about him. Having him as a friend made the transition easier on her.   
  
(But that had been the problem, she loved a boy that made a choice he could never take back. And she, could never cross the bridge he took.)   
  
Deep within her soul she knew she had loved Regulus.   
  
But the choices they each made separately finally directed their futures.   
  
Like life intended Pandora found her courage. The same could be said of her will to find her voice and presence when the war broke out. Flashes of Regulus and Xeno gave her the sense to see how ludicrous and vividly colorful the world (was) could be. She remembered the pain, the fear and mortality war had in each side of the parties involved. Her love for Regulus was like living with a ghost; it haunted her dreams and shadows she passed during the day.   
  
Every day that would pass she would find a new reason to keep fighting. To reminisce of what could have been different if people stopped hating. When she had been younger Pandora had believed in peace. Now when she went outside her home and with the news being as dreadful as ever, she still held conviction that war would not kill the humanity each person held capacity of. There would always be evils in their world but the darkness would not win so quickly or so easily. Because human beings (whether magical or not) had shown that love could heal the faults.   
  
Could finish a war even.   
  
She didn’t know when the weeks wore on, they had become a hazy landscape when she left Hogwarts. The Order became a place where hope was needed. By her home she felt it. It had become a numbing process. Reading names of the deceased increased, having short funerals and knowing she would lose so many friends. If hadn’t been the few close calls and friends she kept, Pandora would have lost her strength.   
  
It almost felt like the beginning of living in such dark times made it impossible to breathe. And it did. When she heard of _his_ death she had been hurt. Like a knife had clung to her heart and pressed firmly for all of the hours of remembering his choices. His fate was done.   
  
The bitterness of death taking another person she knew and loved had singed another side of her heart. It had been two years since they made their choices, but death had a funny way of bringing her back to her past. When Regulus had still been a boy who didn’t want to disappoint his family. Where a freshly broken heart had felt the cruelties of a first love gone sour. Back then, she had known that what the world wanted from them was different than what their society expected from them.   
  
Those years of Pandora knowing and accepting had been a test.   
  
(And she felt like she was losing something again.)   
  
She could still picture a sixteen-year-old Regulus without a mark. With warm hands on her waist and her own cupping his face. Though they had been together for only a couple of weeks she had remembered the expressions he only gave to her. Of how he freely expressed himself with his Slytherin tie being undone and his vest missing because between their meetings he didn’t have to be formally put together. Memories like that still felt like torture.   
  
Heavily so that it felt awkward and wrong to connect his name with the log of the dead. It had been tragic to witness the coldness war could affect so many people. She wondered how Sirius was doing with the news of his family. With death clinging too close it almost made it impossible to not mention it—however; it became as casual as the weather with its constant state of normality after every raid and day that passed since the war officially started. Even if he hadn’t talked to them since he had been disowned, and he, himself, severed his ties with them Pandora had noticed all the unspoken words both brothers, in particular, wanted to say. The abrupt nature of life and death had merely sprung new revelations.   
  
Empty promises and solidarity compulsions were abundant.   
  
On her own she recycled her talents with temporary achievements. It had been dull and restrictive in some occasions, but when it came to living Pandora justified the price. So, she mourned in the privacy of her heart and the walls that sheltered her.   
  
For the boy that could've had a different choice. And for the nativity of herself and peers for failing to see that the war could have been prevented. The hate had consumed a myriad of classes of generations for a while. Now they were drowning. Whereas, Pandora simply did her part to minimize the blade that death plummeted in her home.   
  
She hadn’t noticed it. Not that she had been looking for it earnestly or obsessively. It hadn’t even felt like the first time either, Pandora had been in the middle of surviving a random raid. The newspaper she had was torn into shreds and her cup of tea had been rudely interrupted and slammed to a wall. On one arm, the hot beverage had spilled earlier when she had dodged a hex, the burn at the time had only made the adrenaline thrive as she had protected herself. It had only been when the fight stopped when she noticed of the pain in her nerves were where the exposed skin had been touched.   
  
Her clothes fared better though she did smell like the tea she had been drinking. Her blond hair had been pulled back to a loose braid but now was a messier undone style. From behind her, Xeno had fetched her scattered books. In a soft second the sun’s beams had brushed against her face and more importantly at Xeno’s arms where her books were. It had been mundane, during war to hear few words being spoken in the open. Xeno had been of the few to have the courage to live; true he had been paranoid and scared but somehow he had kept logic locked within himself. In times like that she had noticed a shift in her life and his.   
  
They had always been friends. He had always known to keep secrets of herself when she allowed herself to be open with him, and she had respected the ones he told her in equal bursts of camaraderie. That had been their foundation. Not all-knowing, but Xeno had always been good to her. Hogwarts had always been special to her heart. It had given her first friend, her first love and a place to nurture her hobbies. That had been why she wanted to protect and defend than to attack.   
  
Since she had managed her life after Regulus, Xeno had been there for her. In the short years after that, it had shown that there had been imbalance and misunderstandings within herself. Of people, of places and rightfully of herself when she thought she had been logical with the universe. From the short break she had, Pandora saw the barest streaks of what she had missed. The unknown dares she once had whispered in her notes.   
  
When Xeno passed her books back it clicked. She remembered that she had smiled gratefully. The words may have turned into a fog but, she had recalled how her home went into another small redecoration. Her study room exploded again in life and for once she almost thanked her attackers for bringing her back to her roots. The months may of have been bleak, but it wouldn’t stay that way forever.   
  
Because she would rise again so long as she had her wits and determination to do so. 


End file.
